


Sowing the seeds of love

by beloniika



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Florists, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-12
Updated: 2015-06-12
Packaged: 2018-04-04 00:18:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4119750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beloniika/pseuds/beloniika
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jongdae owns a little but quite successful flower shop, Yixing likes to make flower compositions (and Jongin wastes too many bouquets).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sowing the seeds of love

**Author's Note:**

> After posting pretty consistently all through April the muse left me, even to simply conclude some almost done WIPs. To try to get the gears to work again I'm posting another revamped fic, that I'm planning to develop in an AU (that was the original plan even way back when, but it ended in nothing :/ ). 
> 
> I hope I got the right flowers and meanings ;; _ranunculus=you are attractive_ & _tulips=declaration of love_ ??
> 
> Titled after a Tears For Fears song.

“Chen’s” was a little but successful flower shop, squished between a hair salon and a newly opened bakery.

The owner, Kim Jongdae, was proud of his shop and of the smiles his floral arrangements always seemed to bring on the faces of his clients and of the passersby alike. He lived in the apartment above the shop and generally opened shortly after receiving the daily batch of flowers and plants. He was friends with Joonmyeon, who worked for the greenhouse Jongdae stocked up from and was usually the one to drive the greenhouse’s green truck – Jongdae always waited under the shop’s canopy with a styrofoam cup of hot coffee for Joonmyeon and one for himself.

Surprisingly, but maybe not so much so, there were more male clients than female ones. Jongdae liked to speculate about why did they buy that particular flower, bouquet, plant, composition: following such criteria, he often wondered, with a bit of sarcasm, what occurrence did they forget or what did they have to beg forgiveness for.

He didn’t expect that Jongin, his delivery man and helper in the shop, would turn out to be his most profitable customer, even with the employee discount. Every two weeks, the younger man would sport a hopeful aura exiting the shop with an extra dozen of red roses to add to his early morning deliveries, only to come back looking a bit down and leaving Jongdae with a burning curiosity for his “case”, since Jongin would always skirt his questions.

That lasted for several months, until Jongin stopped buying flowers. Jongdae felt bad for his assistant, assuming he had been rejected by his love interest, but had to take it back when Jongin came back to the shop linking hands with another guy, looking so happy together they made the beautiful array of flowers on display pale in comparison, that Jongdae had to bite back a smile at the sight.

**❀**

The flower shop had its regular customers, but Jongdae’s favorite was Yixing, hands down. They met three years prior, when “Chen’s” began its business and one of the first customers was this relaxed, smiling, dark haired guy.

_“Finally a flower shop close to home, I won’t have to drive all around for some flowers anymore,” the new customer commented placidly, the dangling bell echoing in the quiet shop following his entrance._

_Jongdae raised his head from the lilies he was fussing over and turned, coming face to face with the man who just spoke. He was a bit startled, both by the vicinity and by the pretty, dimpled smile on the other man’s face._

_“Glad to hear that,” Jongdae said with a broad grin, ignoring the beat his heart skipped at the sight, “How can I help you?”_

_“I need a bunch of beargrass, a dozen of these orange gerberae, please, and…do you also have spherical florist sponge?” the man asked, looking down at the aforementioned flowers on his right side._

_“Sure, how big do you need the sponge to be?”_

_“Uhm, a medium one should be fine.”_

_Jongdae felt the customer smiling at him placidly as the florist picked the prettiest gerberae of the bunch, but he couldn’t make himself to look at the guy. On his way back to the counter, Jongdae grabbed a handful of beargrass and took a packaging of sponge from the shelves behind him, then took everything to the cash desk._

_“It’s fifteen dollars,” he said while putting everything in a bag with the shop’s logo, “Thanks for visiting Chen’s,” he added, smiling brightly at the new customer._

_“Thank you, I’ll return soon,” the man beamed and turned, bending to smell some gladiolus before leaving._

A few visits at the shop later, the dimpled man, who eventually introduced himself as Yixing, confessed flower composition was a hobby he wished to get better at. Jongdae jumped at the chance to offer to teach him more of this craft. Yixing agreed gladly, albeit putting on a bit of a fight when Jongdae insisted on teaching for free, but was even more surprised to be presented a bag of raw materials at the end of their first lesson. It took Jongdae a long time to convince Yixing to accept it, the older man being so adamant in his polite refusal to receive “something I should pay for. You’re giving me free lessons, after all.”

“I have a ton lying around, not many purchase sponges and stuff from a private shop, since they’re cheaper at the supermarket. I won’t go broke if I give you some of them, don’t worry,” was Jongdae’s usual rebuttal, his kittenish smile giving a lilt to his words. It eventually worked, and that’s how Yixing started to pass by the shop every two saturdays to practice flower composition, always leaving with a bag of goods kindly offered by the florist. In addition, they met for lunch at the café on the opposite street once a month, both bringing photos of their latest works and discussing techniques--Yixing may be an amateur, but he was damn good at arranging flowers and Jongdae always told him as such, enjoying the way Yixing’s cheeks pinked as he scratched the back of his neck in pleased embarrassment.

With that common interest, the two of them had more excuses to meet and chat, but thankfully they didn’t always talk about flowers. Jongdae got to know that Yixing was one year older than him, he enjoyed to play the guitar and cook when he clocked off his receptionist job, and that his bestfriend-roommate worked in the bookstore across the street; Yixing learned that Jongdae liked to sing, didn’t believe in ghosts, and liked spicy food.

Somewhere along the way, in those three years they’ve known each other, Jongdae started falling for the chinese man’s cuteness with an underlying manliness, his adorable accent, his many hidden talents. Give or take a few months, three years have been enough to secretly pine over his friend and loyal customer: it was about time for Jongdae to confess his feelings to the man he liked. He was waiting impatiently for Yixing’s usual mid-week visit to the shop, stalking nervously from an end to the other of the counter, when the bell at the entrance jingled and a familiar mop of almost black hair entered the shop.

“Hi Jongdae! How’re you?”

The florist prayed Yixing didn’t notice his pink cheeks.

“All good, Yixing, and you?”

“Good, good,” the other man smiled brightly, “This week’s project consists of—”

“I have something for—”

They looked at each other and promptly burst out laughing.

“You first,” the florist said chivalrously, “I insist,” he added, noticing the other man was already opening his mouth (and knowing fully well how polite, almost obsessively so, Yixing tended to be).

“Okay,” Yixing chuckled, “I need five anthuriums and an aloe leaf, please.”

“Sure thing.”

Before Jongdae wrapped the flowers up, he took a rather bulky, cube shaped package from under the counter and carefully gave it to Yixing.

“For you,” he stated without looking at his crush directly. Yixing accepted the gift with his lips forming a perfect ‘O’ and asked, “Can I open it already?”

At Jongdae’s nod that made his curls bounce, Yixing quickly untied the purple ribbon on top and unwrapped the paper: a nice composition of ranunculus and tulips was encased in a rather large glass box, its lid removable to allow watering. A small sphere of ranunculus sat in the middle of the case on a nest, branches of tulips and wire bursting out of it in gentle arches and curls, while glass stones resembling drops were scattered on the base.

Jongdae was growing restless at Yixing’s silence, mutely freaking out and apprehensively waiting for a reaction, whether the older man liked his present or not. A blinding smile suddenly appeared on Yixing’s face, deepening his trademark dimple.

“It’s stunning, Jongdae! And these flowers are absolutely beautiful!” he gushed over the composition Jongdae made for him. His voice lilted in barely contained excitement at the thought of the meanings those flowers carried, if he remembered them correctly.

“Not as much as you,” Jongdae mumbled, suddenly feeling warm. A soft gasp escaped Yixing’s lips.

“What?”

Jongdae fidgeted with the discarded paper while repeating, “They aren’t as beautiful as you.”

Yixing blushed and looked down, a shy smile on his rosy lips.

“Well, I like you too,” he admitted timidly.

Awkwardness was interrupted by a customer, who needed a bouquet of tulips, urgently. The florist accomplished and sold the flowers to the man, who ran out of the shop after a hasty _thank you_ ; as soon as the man left, Jongdae and Yixing couldn’t hold their laughter anymore, both imagining the man forgot his anniversary.

“Here are your flowers. I can’t wait for our monthly meeting to see what you will come up with, this time,” Jongdae admitted as he held the bag and the gift out for Yixing.

“I’ll do my best to honor your teachings and your present,” Yixing promised with a determined nod, “By the way, you don’t have to wait two whole weeks, you know,” he observed cheekily. Jongdae blushed at the tone but grinned back.

“How much is it?” Yixing asked when he took the bag,

“Free of charge,” the curly man stated.

“Oh, thanks,” the other man giggled, “See you.”

“Bye, Yixing.”

Jongdae smiled like never before as he watched Yixing leave the shop with a last wave of his hand from the other side of the glass door, the bell chiming after him.

Not long after the chinese man left, Jongin came back from his errands: it was as if the boy sensed something good happened, because he came back with cupcakes from the bakery next door and, after a quick glance at his boss’ giddy expression, he stalked to the counter and enveloped Jongdae in a tight hug, smiling broadly the whole time.

“Finally, hyung,” Jongin chuckled. He swiftly avoided Jongdae’s slap on his arm, making the older man whine even louder, but Jongdae was too happy to pay attention to the teasing, a pleased blush spreading on his cheeks as he bit in the smooth frosting of his baby blue cupcake, looking forward to the development of his relationship with Yixing. 


End file.
